Inner Light
by the.key.to.our.hearts
Summary: Clyde finds a strange book in his attic and decides to show it off to his friends. When he accidentally performs a spell, everyone present changes. Is this for the best? Or the worst?
1. So It Begins

Clyde sneezed as dust tickled the inside of his nose. "God damnit…" the brunette muttered, kicking small cardboard boxes out of the way in the darkness.

"CLYDE?! WHAT WAS THAT?!"

Clyde groaned, stomping deliberately on the attics wooden floor, hoping that some of the plaster from the celling fell down into his mother's face. "NOTHING MOM!" He yowled back, growling at the old boxes stacked and pooled together, each box holding a false label scrawled across the front of it. _'Why do_ _ **I**_ _have to clear out this stupid fucking mess?'_ he thought grimly, shoving a pile of boxes out of the way with a satisfactory clatter of shattering plates. The fourteen year old brunette decided to get back at his parents by scrambling up the insides of one of the boxes. He tore it open, fingernails scratching at the heavy packing tape. A ripping sound echoed throughout the cramped attic. The teen quirked an eyebrow up at the dusty old tomes inside. Each of the weathered leather spines holding strange and foreign words scrawled across them. Clyde picked up a dark red one, about as thick as his forearm. He flipped through a few torn, yellowed pages. The words seemed all scrambled, twisted, and just outright unfriendly. Clyde reached for his back pocket, fishing out his phone. He tapped at the screen, pulling up Craig's text conversation.

'Hey dood. Found creepy book. Want to c?'

It took a few minutes until Craig replied.

'Sure. Where are we meeting?'

'Stark's. Tell every1'

'Fine.'

Clyde felt rather satisfied with the response, tucking the old book into the crook of his arm. "I'll see you later mom! The gang just called!" he yelled to his mother, sliding down the attic ladder and scampering down the stairs.

"CLYDE DONOVAN, YOU GET BACK HERE!" Clyde heard his mother yowl from her spot in the kitchen, he ignored it of course, slipping into his snow boots and deciding to finish cleaning later. The snow crunched softly under foot as Clyde jogged past several houses of varying shades. His ears perked at the sound of a shrill argument.

"Don't call me a fucking ginger, fatass!"

"AY! I AM NOT FAT YOU SNEAKY JEW!"

Clyde rolled his eyes, coming to a halt in front of the Broflovski house, four figures standing outside. Two in a natural heated argument, one watching in the background, and another laying face first in the snow. Clyde sighed, placing his hands in his brown pants, shrugging in his heavy red coat.

"What the hell are they arguing about now…" Clyde asked Stan, the boy with ebony hair turned to the brunette with matching disinterest on his face.

"Eh…The usual stuff." Stan replied, shrugging. His crystal blue eyes trailed over to Kyle and Cartman, a glare of bloody murder evident in pools of jade and chocolate.

"So…you guys want to seem something cool?" Clyde asked, arching an eyebrow to accentuate his dark brown gaze. A thread of haughtiness was woven through his voice, fantasizing being looked at with awe.

"It beats listening to this persistent nonsense." Stan replied with another shrug, striding over to Kyle. The ember haired boy was wearing his usual jeans paired with orange jacket. Green ushanka resting over untamable red curls. "Hey Kyle, Clyde and wants to show me something. Want to come?"

Angered green eyes flicked over to Stan, deflating just a bit at the prospect of leaving the stupid fight. "Yeah, okay," Kyle replied moving away from a furious brunette.

"GODDAMNIT KAHL! I'M NOT DONE! GET BACK HERE YOU ASSHOLE!" Cartman screeched, stomping after the pair of best friends.

"The fatass can come too...if he can keep his mouth shut." Clyde said jokingly to the trio, Kyle groaning in annoyance as a smirk splayed across a chubby face, before it contorted into a scowl.

"That'll happen, Clyde, you ASSHOLE!"

A muffled voice spoke up, making the group turn to see Kenny brushing snow off his parka, blue eyes demanding. "Mmm! M mmmmm mm mmm!"

Cartman rolled his eyes, "Obviously you can go Kinny."

Clyde huffed, at his patience limit. "Can we just go now?" The group nodded, a few 'yeahs' and 'okays' threading around the five of them.

"Oh! Just a second, I promised my mom that I would watch Ike if I went anywhere. Just a moment!" Kyle spoke up, zipping back into his house, returning with his younger ravenette brother. Ike firmly holding onto Kyle's hand as the older led the younger back to the group.

"Oh look! It's the Jew fag and faggot Junior!" Cartman teased, pointing a chubby finger with fake excitement in his voice.

"Shut the fuck up fatass!"

The group traveled in more or less silence, Clyde leading them down the streets to Stark's Pond. Three people already there and chatting amongst themselves. One blonde boy with hair sticking up in sharp points, hands wrapped around a rather disinterested looking males shoulders. Sharp blue eyes locking into Clyde's brown pools, Craig's arm shooting up to grab the brunette's attention. A dark skinned boy stopped talking, taking notice of where Craig was looking.

"Hey guys!" Token called out with a wide wave and an even wider smile. A loud bout of chatter erupted, the teens flooding into a sort of blob, talking about boring school work and stupid teachers. Clyde pulled out the red leather bound book, clearing his throat and preparing to gather their attention, until an innocent blond stole his spotlight.

"Sorry I'm late fellers!" A sweet southern accent pulled Clyde's attention away from his book, glaring as Butters hopped over to the huddle. The other boys surround him and began yammering on about punctuality, and a crazy new scheme that might actually work this time around.

Clyde cleared his throat again, intentionally making it louder than necessary, gaining a pleased smile as attention turned to him. "I've gathered you all here because I found a really cool book in my attic-"

"Hah! NERD!" Cartman sneered, at least two angered glares shooting back at the chubby fourteen year old. Kyle thwacked the back of the chubby boy's head, hushing him sternly. "FUCKING HELL KAHL, THAT HURT!" Another smack to the back of the head made the brunette subside with angered murmers.

"AS I WAS SAYING, this book is really old, based on the pictures it looks like some sort of ancient spell craft."

"Okay. Say one." Craig piped up with his us ual deadpan expression, Tweek exclaiming in worry, gripping tighter to the raven's shoulders.

"B-but what if we all get killed! Gah!"

Clyde forget to care too much about the worries of the twitching blond, flipping to a kickass looking page. He skimmed over the words, mouthing them to himself before drawing in a breath. _"Noctu monstra dico me magum sæculi. Sume libros istus animarum immutant. Da virtutis det illis vitam. Facere noctu monstra."_

The group of ten people waited expectantly, only met with sounds of cicadas and a soft breeze. Cartman folded his arms over his chest, unimpressed. Stan looked around expectantly, only seeing the normal South Park scenery. Ike exclaimed something to himself, a muffled sigh marking the slumping of Kenny.

"Mmmmm mmmm. Mmm mmmmmmm mm mmmmmmmmm..." the blond sighed, turning softly to move away.

Of course, according to the laws of fate, the spell took its toll at that very moment. Screams errupted from the group, cries as their bodies shifted within writing skin. Claws, teeth, the works sprouting to form new bones, new eyes.

New needs.

New bodies.

New _cravings._

 _New lust._


	2. Just Breathe

The pain had stricken all the teens down to the dry dirt, patches of snow softening the blow. Each body twitched as the genes changed violently. Eric Cartman was one of the first to stir, his large body quivering in the cold. He bolted upright, hand over chest, the world glaring at his eyes. The bright light forced him to squint, his mouth feeling weird and misshapen. His tongue flicked over the top of his teeth, pausing at the fangs he found protruding where his canines used to be. A quick glance down at his hand made the tubby brunette scamper back into Stan. A low growl resonating from behind him. Eric turned sharply, glaring at Stan, seeing as his friend had grown hair everywhere. Tufts poking out from under his brown jacket, wolf-like teeth implanted in his maw. His blue hat twitched, nose contorting as the smell of natural enemy filled Stan's now heightened senses. Bright yellow eyes flew open, hands flying down on Cartman's shoulders, throwing the brunette back to the ground.

"What the actual fuck Stan!" Eric cried out, shoving at the raven's chest, feeling new muscle under his touch. His squinted gaze trailed upwards to Stan's hungry glare, staring down at potential prey. Hot breaths landed on Eric's face, the larger boy attempting to wriggle away.

Stan's animalistic eyes blinked rapidly, his grip loosening as he sat back, crystal blue returning to it's rightful place. "I-I'm sorry…" he mumbled, jaw slack from shock.

"You fucking should be! You tried to fucking kill me!" Cartman snapped, sitting up with an intense glare. Stan winced at the words, drawing back further. "Y'know what? Screw you guys! I'm going home!" Cartman pouted, standing up briskly, turning on his heel and storming off, leaving a bewildered Stan to look around at everyone. Clyde, Butters, and Token were already gone, indents in the ground remained pressed into the snow, giving the slightest of insights to what had happened to the three of them. That left Ike, Kyle, Kenny, Tweek, Craig, and Stan in a messed up huddle, all five of the others breathing. Stan's eyes went to Craig, dead cold skin met his gaze, a few fingers already had fallen off. Pieces of flesh missing to expose bones and shriveled intestines. Stan didn't want to look too closely as his strange hunger spiked again, his eyes diverted to Tweek, soft gossamer wings resting folded against a creased pale green button up shirt.

' _What the hell…?'_ Stan thought, shakily getting up to his feet. He stretched out his mouth, frowning at the four new sharp little points called teeth sticking out and resting on his soft lips. He grumbled to himself, fumbling to grab his phone out, flicking upwards to see himself using the camera. He nearly dropped his phone into the snow. Black fur matching his hair settled gently on the back of his neck, his chest, arms, and legs larger due to the new muscle. His shoes felt way too tight, mostly because his feet had grown with his skeleton.

Stan did indeed feel taller than normal, at least by a few inches. He pushed the power button on his phone, scrambling over to Kyle, shaking his best friend furiously, Stan needed to know that he hadn't lost that piece of himself too.

Heck, he didn't even get to tell him! That made him shake harder, hearing a low groan from Kenny due to the leaves crunchy under Kyle's lowly groaning body. The blond boy sat up, placing a brown glove on Stan's trembling hands, telling him without words to let Kyle rest. Kenny's hood had been thrown back during the change, his thin face framed by messy mustard hair.

"Relax…" he said softly, calmly. The words having instant effect on the raven.

"Kenny…what's wrong with everyone?" Stan asked, his voice hitching, tears beginning to pool around his blue eyes.

"I don't know, but worrying about it won't help. Pull it together." Kenny ran a hand through his messy hair, hoping to calm down the new werewolf. He wasn't dead yet, so that was a plus. Although Kenny's back did hurt, but he didn't care to much as to why.

Stan sniffled, "That's really wise…"

"Don't get used to it! I'm still as dumb as a pile of rocks!" Kenny flashed a dopey grin, smile gleaming in contrast to the snow.

Stan chocked out a laugh, looking down at Kyle worriedly, the redhead still hadn't woken up. "K-kenny…you don't…think…" Stan trailed off, looking up to Kenny's artic eyes for help.

"No. Kyle wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't opt out of a chance to outlast Cartman." Kenny added the last part to get Stan to smile again. It didn't quite work, Stan sniffling again as a single lone tear fell down his face. Kenny reached out placing a gloved hand in the path of the tear, wiping it away. "Stop it," something twitched, his back felt cold. There was probably another tear in his old parka somewhere. _Oh joy._ "It's most unbecoming for you to cry. Your eyes get way too puffy." Kenny scolded playfully, sending a small reassuring smile Stan's way.

"Thanks, Ken. I appreciate it…" Stan trailed off, seeing Craig rolling around in his sleep, grasping for something. Eventually the thrashing stopped when Craig found a solid object, Tweek, in his grasp. Stan snorted in slight amusement, flicking his gaze back to Kenny. "So…what should we dooooo…" Stan was cut off, a red gloved hand raised in shock, pointing behind Kenny.

Kenny frowned at Stan, turning around to have his face smothered in feathers. Kenny blew at them, a feeling like ice water being poured over his body. He felt his own breath blowing on the feathers. "Uhh…" He trailed off, copying Stan who clapped his hands on his knees, standing up suddenly.

"Well then! That's enough awkwardness! Can we just get Kyle and his brother out of here?" Stan asked massaging the bridge of his nose. Kenny just nodded, attempting to pull his new wings back into himself.

"Wait, we can't!" Kenny suddenly blurted, his arms holding a passed out five year old. Stan already had Kyle hoisted over his shoulder, a dark eyebrow shooting upwards.

"What? Why not?"

"Because then we would have to get past not only the towns folks but Kyle's crazy ass mother! We can't go back there looking like a fucking werewolf and angel have kidnapped him!" Kenny pointed out sharply, tightening his grip on Ike.

"Well then what should we fucking do?" Stan demanded, beginning to panic.

"Slap him till he wakes up?" Kenny suggested, kneeling down to lay Ike down softly on the hard ground.

"I don't think a slap would be the best way to wake him up…" Stan replied in a hushed tone, slipping his super best friend off his shoulder, laying Kyle against a nearby tree.

"I could tickle him." Kenny tried again, twisting his arm around to close around a feather. With a sharp hiss and a jolt of a wince, Kenny proudly held up a long fluffy feather.

Stan nodded briskly, shuffling off to the side, allowing Kenny to advance on the sleeping boy. He raised the feather, carefully brushing it quickly across Kyle's face and under his chin. The redhead appeared to shiver, chest rising and falling harshly. "St-stop it…" Kyle murmured from his sleep, face contorting into a soft smile. Kenny continued his magic, humming a cheery tune as he advanced, practically straddling his friend to tickle him.

"I think it's working! Keep it up Kenny!" Stan enthused, watching with eager eyes as slivers of emerald green greeted blue. A sick laugh wormed it's way out of Kyle, his body spasming as a cough wretched out of Kyle. Shaking, the redhead slumped over, gasping for air.

Kenny leaned back onto the tips of his toes, releasing the feather to get blown away by the winds. He hopped away from his friend, looking worriedly at Stan, who seemed no more confused than Kenny. "Ky-Kyle?" Stan tried, getting down to the same level as Kenny.

"Water…" Kyle sounded like his throat had been scraped out, Kenny and Stan exchanged glances. Both of them stood up, Stan hoisting Kyle back into the air. Only this time it was bridal style. Kenny tried not to roll his eyes, imagining a certain playboy magazine he would be revisiting after this whole thing blew over. Never the less, the boys rushed their friend over to the edge of the pond. Sun set colors tainting the water a gleaming scarlet. Stan placed Kyle don gently at the waters surface, cupping his hands together to scoop out some water. Kyle swatted Stan's hands down, pulling himself into the cold pond. Kenny dropped down on the beach, chin in hand.

Kyle dunked his head into the water, sighing in relief as the burning stopped. He didn't even care if his clothes got wet. He craved the water, pulling the rest of his body into the pond's cold embrace. A small pod of bubbles escaped his lips, ears spreading, fanning out. Kyle removed his favorite green hat, letting his body sink, never letting go of his hat. After he had regained his breath, the redhead shot upwards, pushing wet strands of curly ember hair out of his eyes when he finally broke the surface. "Thank you!" He exclaimed, darting over to the sand bank, not paying too much attention to his heightened swimming. "I couldn't breath back there. Sorry." He apologized rubbing the nape of his neck.

Stan waved this off with a relaxed smile, all his teeth glinting in the last rays of day. "It's cool. Just don't ever do that again! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Kenny rolled his eyes, sitting back with a long awaited release of a breath.

Kyle barked a laugh, settling down at the shores edge, placing his arms over each other as he lay on his stomach, head nestled on top of his arms. "Okay, okay, I promise." His laughing grin died down to a simple smile, one hand pulling out from the water to point at the two of them. "So would someone mind explaining what's going on?"

Stan tensed up, looking up and away, stuttering over words. Kenny sighed, beginning his explanation. "Clyde did some weirdo spell or something, and as far as I know, everyone turned into some sort of monster. I get the lovely pleasure of being an angel," his voice practically purred at this "and little Stanny over there became one of those sexy werewolves~" Stan's face flushed red.

"Shut it Kenny! This isn't Twilight or some shit!" Stan barked in defense, although his face was burning.

Kenny chuckled, thinking of a come back quickly. "It _could_ be, we have our Bella."

It was Kyle's turn to blush red. "God damn it Kenny!" His spark, his fire, returning to those bright green eyes.

Kenny shrugged this off, laughing to himself. He stuck out his tongue playfully. "Dawww…Are you two embarrassed? Because of little ol' me?" Kenny gave a two fingered salute to the pair, turning and attempting to fly away. His wings moved sporadically, the blond wavered in the air, making it just over the tree line before plummeting back down to earth.

"KENNY!" A pair of voices exclaimed, one already up and growling. The other pulled hair over his ears, not ready for anyone to see them yet. The other hauled their body onto the sand, hissing as the webs between his fingers and toes receding so he could stand and chase after his raven haired friend. A low chuckle came from far away, further than anyone could hear the voice from.

"Run around like chickens with their heads cut off for now my boys…You deserve a break before things pick up pace again…"


	3. Siren Song

**A/N: Howdy! This is the author! This chapter was a long time coming, and I apologize for any OOC characters! This is my first fanfiction, like EVER. I would appreciate reviews good and bad, thanks for reading! ~Verity**

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Kenny stuck out against the soft white snow like a giant orange island in an ocean of glistening frost. Stan rushed up to his friend, sucking in a soft breath at the weird angles the blond boy's body had gone through. Legs settled in a low V shape against the rough wide bark of tree. Kenny had his back plastered along the tree, arms stuck out in front of the boy in a yearning pose. A few scattered feathers floated softly to the ground, one landing on top of a red poof-ball hat. "Kenny! Are you okay?" Stan asked hurriedly, dropping to one knee to examine his close friend, feet softly throbbing against the squished shoes.

Kenny let out a quiet groan in response, crystal blue eyes blinking open from snow dusted lashes just as fast as a hummingbird's wing beats. "I'm _fine_ , Stan." He growled lowly, pain ricocheting down his spine as the new angel slid down and away from the tree.

Stan exhaled a relieved breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a warm wave of happiness flowing around the raven haired teenager. "Good. I think Kyle might have had a heart attack or something if you suddenly dropped dead." His tone might have been playful, but Kenny couldn't help but shudder at the words, a thin smirk splaying across the boy's boney face.

"Yeah, not like I'd _ever_ just drop dead. You guys would _obviously_ notice." Kenny spat out the words as if they had burned his tongue from resting dormant upon it for too long. Stan drew back from his friend, watching with round, concerned eyes as the blond stood up slowly dusting off their dirty orange parka.

"Kenny," Stan sighed, drawing himself upwards to lock eyes with Kenny. Although the raven had most definitely grown in size, he had tipped his chin downwards to catch Kenny's eyes in a dead lock. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I told you, I'm fine Stan. Don't worry about it." Kenny mumbled stretching out his arms in front of them, feeling a small satisfying pop from the joints.

Stan frowned carefully at his friend's words, biting his tongue softly to keep from shouting at the blond to spill everything. Kenny always seemed to have such a whimsical air about him, that it was hard to watch his smile turn into a frown. Or worse, a scowl. Never the less, the pre-night gloom had set in. Skies not yet dark enough to display any glittering stars, nor light enough to accentuate any fluffy cotton clouds. Stan leaned backwards against a smaller tree, feeling tears in his ever loved chocolate coat. "So…what _should_ I be worrying about? How to get home? How to change back? How to even walk around the town? Tell me Kenny, what should I be worrying about?" Stan's usual clear blue eyes seemed cloudy and piercingly sharp at the same time, gaze fixed solely on the blond.

Kenny ran a callused hand through his dirty blond locks, sighing softly as the pain slunk away as a low thrumming. He shrugged simply at Stan's barrage of comments, not saying a word as his expression fell into a neutral state, a small thread of anger still woven tightly into it. "Most likely you should be worrying about where we should move."

" _Move_? Kenny that's insane!" Stan exclaimed, shoving away from the tree trunk with a shocked and angered frown, a low growl worming it's way out from the raven's belly.

"Hey, you were the one who asked, dipshit." Kenny replied simply, another casual shrug rolling off his shoulders, decidingly taking no notice of the growl, of the slight yellowish tint in his friend's eyes.

Stan balled up a fist, slamming it forcefully upon the tree behind him, a harsh snarl wrestling away from his lips, canines exposed in challenge. "Damn it Kenny…" he muttered, taking a fleeting glance up at the slowly darkening sky, a silver tint growing in the east.

A soft squishing sound brought both boys attention to their still soaked red haired friend. "What's going on? Kenny, are you okay?" Kyle asked as gently as he could, green hat grasping helplessly at ember curls as it tried to remain on top of Kyle's bouncing head.

"Stan's just going through a little wolf PMS" Kenny teased, sticking out his tongue to the ever growling Stan, who looked about ready to violently dismember the angel. _'Not the first time it's happened…Kinda' a boring trope by now…'_ Kenny thought with a bland expression settling over hi playful mask.

Kyle sighed, waving off Kenny's actions as the boy's typical perversion. His emerald eyes turned steeply over on Stan, a worried frown working it's way across porcelain skin. "Stan, are _you_ okay?"

"Fucking peachy…" Stan growled in reply, moonbeams flitting around their feet, a sharp tearing sound echoed around the deathly silent clearing.

Blue had never really been a courageous color, easily being overshadowed by a bully such as yellow. Stan had never really been all that courageous either, easily taken by animalistic instincts by demand of his lovely moon. By her official law, the blond boy had disgraced the loyal soldier enough for independent action to be allowed. But green was stronger than yellow, a firm hand clamping down on Stan's shoulder as a sign of encouragement. "Stan. I think one transformation is enough for a single day. Don't you agree?"

The supple words had instant effect on the growling wolf, his eyes flickering back to the royal blue he used to poses. Artic met royalty in a firm glare. Blond met raven in a silent conversation. Stan wanted to whisper, _'I'm sorry, Ken. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I wish I hadn't…'_ but a soft expression told him simple yet powerful words. _'It's alright. I'm fine Stan.'_ The raven smiled at that, meeting Kenny's smirk with his own, the fight dissolving among the rest of the day's weirdness.

"Okay, now seriously. What's going on?" Kyle demanded, quirking his hips to the side so the red head could plant his hands there.

"We're just trying to figure out what to do. So far all that's been discussed is a male wolf's menstrual cycle." Kenny snorted, folding arms over his chest coupled with a cheesy eye roll.

"Which is, nonexistent. Of course…" Stan fumbled around the words, sniffling in the crisp autumn air, eyes darting away.

"Right, of _course_ ," It was Kyle's turn to give a playful eye roll, snorting softly. The red haired male had been trying to divert his attention from his harsh shivers, which stemmed from the water freezing against his clothes and thus his skin. "Why don't we just try to find some trench coats and go home. Figure this whole thing out tomorrow at school." Kyle suggested, glancing around the small ring of friends for traces of displeasure. None seemed to be present, a firm nod passing around the circle as the plan was decided upon. "Okay, good. I'm gonna go find my brother. Who knows what kind of stress he's going through! IKE?!" Kyle broke away from the group, calling out his brother's name, green eyes sweeping around the empty moonlit forest, a soft breeze rippling along the glassy surface of the pond.

"Well then, I'll go search around for some homeless dudes that we could steal from." Kenny said directly to Stan, passing a two-fingered salute off casually as the angel turned on his heel. He placed all his force on one foot, spreading his wings and rocketing upwards, if not shakily.

Stan sighed to himself, glaring down at the shreds of fabric he once had called shoes. Now his feet had dominated the small scraps, harsh nails curling ever so slightly at the end. He began to make his way towards the edge of town, luckily it was late enough that his appearance could be mistaken for being overly drunk. The glaring lights shimmered against the slight slick of ice that constantly covered the sidewalks. Stan pulled his hat down further onto his head of wild hair, fingers lightly brushing over his overly hairy neck. He shuddered, frowning softly up at his uncle's store. He pushed into the warm store, the sudden change in temperature made all the fur on his neck, arms, and legs stand up. His eyes trailed over all the guns to see Jimbo and Ned leaning against the counter with a can of beer in their hands. They seemed to be giggling about a recent hunting trip.

"Mnn I think so." Ned spoke into his mechanized voice box, the voice monotone and void of any emotion.

"Ned, you have no idea what you're talkin' 'bout! That deer was not two st-stories tall!" Jimbo fumbled over his words, his nose sounding stuffy as always.

"Uh, Uncle Jimbo?" Stan called out hesitantly, softly biting the inside of his cheek in hop his uncle didn't freak out.

"Uh…Stan? Damn Ned, he looks hairy!" Jimbo commented, setting the tin can filled with alcohol down on the glass case drunkenly.

"Mnnnnn Yeah." Ned replied, his small circular glasses bunched up on the bridge of his nose, a drunken blush covering his face.

"Are you sure you shit heads aren't just drunk?" Stan suggested in an almost hopeful tone, letting enough sarcasm stay in to seem casual.

"Ehhh…I don't know Stan, only a few beers have been drunken tonight…" Jimbo mumbled, swishing the contents of his beer can absentmindedly.

"See? Anyways, do you have like…I don't know…four extra trench coats?" Stan asked, scratching the back of his head, eyes diverted for extreme casualty.

"Ned, you go check out the the the…um…back room for spare whatever Stan just said." Jimbo ordered, taking a long swig of his beer, clicking his tongue in refreshment, the smell of alcohol drifted over to Stan's overly sensitive nose, the raven cringing at the smell.

Ned let out a small noise of protest before stumbling to a door, shoving keys into the lock and rummaging around the cramped back space. The small man stepped back out with four tan trench coats draped over his arm, holding it out to Stan who happily accepted them. "Thanks Ned, I'll return them to you soon." He promised, waving a rushed goodbye at Jimbo before sprinting back to the park.

Kyle had found his brother nestled by a tree root, his small body shivering softly in the cold Colorado air. The plump innocent cheeks continued to twitch as if something was crawling beneath the small boy's skin. Kyle frowned softly, removing his sopping wet orange jacket and draping it gingerly over Ike's shoulders, it wouldn't provide much warmth, but it would have to be enough for the moment. Kenny swooped down fairly ungracefully, stumbling on his feet until the angel managed to catch his balance on a tree branch. "Did you find anything?" the red head asked quietly, not wanting to wake his slumbering brother.

"Naw. Didn't find jack shit…" Kenny cursed, placing his arms behind him so his head could lean back on the support. A small breath of steam spilled from his nostrils, eyes tracing constellations above. A shrill howl coupled with snow crunching called their attention away from the depressing fact that neither the blond nor red head had turned up anything useful. Stan practically leapt down to them, a bright grin of his face.

"Guys! I actually grabbed some trench coats for us!" Stan called out, flinging two of them down at his friend's faces. A muffled cry coming from Kenny, Kyle just barely catching the coat. The red head slipped the dry coat over his damp clothes, leaning down and plucking his orange coat away from Ike's shivering body. Kenny slid his new coat on, turning his head and waist to check out his back. Seemingly satisfied, the blond cracked a small grin, Stan's energy rubbing off on him.

The jew of the group had snatched up the other coat, wrapping it tightly around his little brother, picking up the slumbering child carefully, arms slightly rocking to keep Ike asleep. "Aww…look! It's a mother in their natural habitat!" Kenny teased, pointing the cutesy brotherly scene.

"Be quiet Kenny…" Kyle grumbled, an angered emerald gaze flicking up to the snickering blond.

Stan flipped the collar of his trench coat up to hide his neck, rolling his eyes and shoving his hands in the wide pockets. "Whatever guys, let's just go home and sleep. Okay?" He asked, still not able to beat down his cheerful smile. The others agreed sleepily, each of them muttering quiet goodbyes to one another, splitting up to get back to their real beds.

~~~~The Next Morning~~~~

Kyle rubbed the sleep from his eyes, beams of light hitting his pale skin from his window. A soft groan bounced off his pillow as the redhead pushed his body up reluctantly. He blinked at the slowly rising sun, shoving his curtains closed and his blankets off. Swinging legs off the side of the bed, he slid onto the floor, wobbling a bit before stalking to the door. A quick flash of red caught the jew's attention, his eyes being drawn to a mirror on his dresser. His heart sunk, four spines stuck out where his ears were supposed to be, thin webbed skin stretched between the spines, veins threading around the new body pieces. Kyle fished his green hat from his crème wooden nightstand, pulling it on and checking to make sure his new "ears" weren't visible. With a content sigh, the redhead slipped out of his room, shambling down the stairs as if he wasn't completely awake.

"Good morning, bubala!" Sheila called out cheerily, a half apron tied around her large body.

"Morning mom…" Kyle replied, putting on his best tired face, adding a yawn to the act.

"So, how did you sleep? I know you came home late last night, I hope you're not too tired for school!" His mother continued, voice high and shrill. The voice that reminded Kyle of his humanity. He wasn't a _thing_. Not as long as his mother still tirelessly worried and doted on him.

"I slept okay. Had a weird dream though," Kyle yawned grabbing a shallow plastic bowl and dumping some corn flakes into it until the lip of the bowl was overrun with cereal.

"That's nice Kyle, just a reminder you better take Ike with you to class today! You know he will want to meet up with your friends!" The younger male rolled his eyes mentally, he would get an earful if he ever actually did that in front of his mother. Milk soon splashed over the yellow flakes, reminding Kyle just how thirsty he felt. "Kyle? Bubbie? Did you fall asleep again?" Sheila asked, leaning over to look at her boy worriedly, his frozen form gazing down ravenously at the carton of milk in his hands.

Kyle jerked his head up towards the shrill voice calling him back, he smiled softly, setting the carton back inside the fridge. "N-no mom, sorry. I just kinda lost myself," he stuttered out an explanation slumping into his chair at the rounded wooden table. His mother passed him a spoon, her face still concerned. The rest of breakfast passed by in silence, Kyle practically running up the stairs to the bathroom, chest heaving from the lack of water.

His pale and clammy hands fumbled with the sink's knobs, blasting the water before dunking his head under the harsh stream. Hat abandoned in the opposite corner, water coursing through heavy ember curls. A harsh breath shuddering out of his body as his skin split again, fingers growing in length to make frog-like digits.

Webbed hands and everything. "It must be my lucky day..." Kyle whispered to the ceramic sink. His knees wobbled, water drops trailing down his soft face. His legs wanted to close together, a magnet like force pulling on his inner thighs. The redhead shoved away from the sink, panting. The magnetic attraction in his legs instantly stopped, the shaking moving up to his chest. Kyle shoved away his questions and concerns, plastering a determined frown on his face to disguise his insecurities. His still dampened webbed hands fumbled with the faucets, switching them off before departing for his bedroom.

He dressed in a simple grey t-shirt with jeans, he silently muttered thanks to god that he kept a spare orange jacket, since his other was still drying on a chair.

When Kyle went back to the bathroom to grab his hat, Ike was already in the bathroom, door sealed shut, green ushanka placed almost lovingly outside in the hallway. Kyle plopped his hat on over his sopping wet curls, bolting downstairs and out the door before his mother could yell at him. He raced through the thick snow towards the bus stop, skidding to a halt by the neon yellow sign. None of the others had showed up, so the redhead took a few moments to catch his shaking shuddering breaths.

A dull yellow bus rolled up to the curb, doors swinging open with a soft hiss and a screech of metal rubbing together. Kyle had heard the sound enough to not be bothered by it, squeezing past legs as he strolled down the aisle. He tossed his worn green backpack onto his chosen seat, sliding in after it with a soft sigh. His head fell back against the rubber seats, not even a moment of rest before Wendy was leaning out of her seat a few rows up to start interrogating the redhead.

"Kyle! Have you seen Stan around? He hasn't been answering his phone!" Kyle could have sworn that he heard Bebe snicker something about Stan being _busy_.

He shrugged, "Sorry Wendy, I have no clue where Stan is,"

Wendy frowned in thought, her eyes falling down to the dirty floor of the bus which had shuddered forwards. "That's odd…" she mumbled, turning back to Bebe with a worried expression, the two of them slowly climbed from small debate to full out argument.

Kyle didn't see any purpose in listening to the girls, so he went back to what he had wanted to do, resting against the seat and closing his eyes for a bit of 'alone time'.

The rest of the morning sped by in a blur of lecturing teachers and excusing himself from the classroom so Kyle didn't accidentally pass out or something. The lunch room was surprisingly quiet, at least to a few ears, the same twitter of school drama still passed over the hard glossed marble floors. Kyle slipped into his usual seat, looking around the table at Clyde, Tweek, and Token. Although, Token looked a bit…transparent…Kyle blamed it on his sudden obsessive thirst. The four ate mostly in silence, eyes would sometimes avert from their respective food to glance around.

"Okay, let's all be real, are these powers amazing or what?" Clyde exclaimed, a rather smug smile on his face as the brunette scanned the expressions on his friends faces. They ranged from angry, to scared, and an almost perfect balance of in between anger and fear.

"Or what," Kyle scoffed, rolling his eyes and nibbling rather numbly at a hunk of chicken.

Clyde looked over at the redhead, silently noting the subtle dampness lines left on the edges of his hat. "I don't get you, Broflovski. We've been handed these _awesome_ powers! What could possibly be so bad about this?" the brunette challenged, an enthusiastic smile now present on the boy's slightly toned features.

"Well then, Donovan, I guess I don't really get you. I can't go over six hours without water or else I fucking _die_." Kyle spat, looking up fiercely from his horrendous chicken nuggets that the cafeteria staff thought 'healthier'. Well, he had assumed he would die. It did seem very likely, to say the least.

Clyde frowned back, although he had ever so slightly jerked back at his friend's statement. "Well I haven't run into any problems. Just some sweet ass spells!" the brunette replied happily, checking with Tweek, beside him, and Token, across from him, for approval on what he was saying. Token seemed disinterested in everything, not even bothering to touch his food, eyes appearing to be glazed over. Tweek looked no better, body twitching and shuddering like normal, but he wasn't even whimpering in fear or paranoia, in fact the blond looked to be on the verge of tears.

"That's great, good for you Clyde. You turned us all into monsters and you get some 'sweet ass spells'." Kyle quoted creating some air quotes sarcastically along with a roll of his jade eyes.

Clyde sat back in confusion, blinking quickly, frowning over at Kyle. "What on earth are you talking about? For all we know you're just thirsty, and the rest of the guys are probably just skipping without us!" he shot back, still glaring around the table in confusion.

It was Token's turn to get upset, brown eyes narrowing threateningly on Clyde. "Oh yeah, I'm _sure_ that being able to stick a hand through yourself is completely normal!" he hissed, shoving a dark hand through his abdomen, the entire table recoiling in shock.

"Y-y-y-you're a ghost!" Tweek squealed, pointing at Token's hand and earning second glances from the cafeteria. A shocked gasp ricocheted around the cafeteria, people stopping to stare, point, and murmur to one another. Token withdrew his hand with a nervous smile.

"Ha ha! Fooled you all! It was just a magic trick!" he lied, jerking away as someone shoved a meaty hand through his forehead, scrambling his thoughts for a moment.

Tweek screamed, or rather wailed, taking breaks between wailing to sob uncontrollably. Kyle looked over at the distressed blond with a dumbfounded expression, finding it harder to breathe as bodies bunched around the circle of friends. 'Stan should be here…were the fuck is he?!' Kyle thought in a panic, eyes darting around the closing faces in fear.

"Hey, do you think they're all that weird?" Someone asked, hands suddenly jutting out to claw at the group's clothes. Tweek wailed harder, scrambling under the table, feeling a sharp pressure on his shirt. Clyde grasped Kyle and Token's hand, pulling the two of them onto the table. Token's form was flickering, partially transparent while others seemed to fill in and become truly human for a mere moment before switching.

Kyle felt his hat being forcefully being torn away, "NO!" he shouted, reaching after it before clamping his hands down over his…ears? He honestly wasn't too sure, the panic and adrenaline fogging over his usual crystalline judgement. Clyde was positioning himself to act as a protector of Token and Kyle, he hadn't even thought of Tweek until the jittery blond was ripped out from under the table.

A harsh tearing sound shot through the cafeteria, dark green going over heads, buttons splashing down onto the floor. Time seemed to slow, Tweek wrapping his arms around himself and ducking down into a turtle position. More excited gasps came from the crowd, the swarm increasing in size as news had spread throughout the school. Teachers yowling after their students as they all flocked to the cafeteria just to get a look at the supposed creatures posing as students.

Hands of varying shades jutted out from the crowd to stroke the dragonfly-like wings stuck to Tweek's back. The boy exclaiming again and scrambling towards the table. Clyde latched onto Tweek's outstretched hand, hauling his friend up onto the table before the blond could dissolve into a puddle of twitching and tears. The group pressed against each other, the school's population getting ever closer. "Clyde do something! Use one of your sweet ass spells or whatever!" Kyle hissed, panic twisted in the redhead's voice, his hands clamped harder down around where his ears should be.

Clyde looked around desperately, "I can only make stuff float around!" the brunette hissed back, kicking at a face that had appeared on the table.

"So make something float damn it!" Token exclaimed in a whisper, swatting away hands that shoved themselves inside of him.

Clyde nodded firmly, raising a hand and focusing on a mustard bottle across the room. _"_ _Surge considunt ut distenderent"_ he muttered, wincing slightly as he felt the mustard bottle rise and pull on him in turn for lifting into the air. He peeked open a now chocolate brown eye to check the progress.

"It's a guy witch!" Someone shrieked excitedly, an uproar wafting around the crowd, more hungry eyes and groping hands shoving for room in the tight rectangle.

"Shit..." Kyle muttered, watching ddesprately as Tweek was moved to the center of the three others, so they could surround and protect the ever crying blond. The redhead of the group tongued over his lips, thinking things not quite fully through. "Hey...so...I'm going to try something stupid, if this doesn't work we're all doomed..." Kyle whispered over to Token and Clyde, recieveing a hope filled hand on his shoulder, knowing that he had Tokem's support.

He stepped away from the group, lowering his hands slowly, wincing at the shriek of joy at his fleshy spines. Kyle taking in a deep if not shuddery breath, clearing his throat. His emerald eyes flicked upwards to the crowd, his piercing gaze hushing the crowd ever so slightly. His mouth opened and words spilled forward in a tranquil melody. _"My first life was so boring, just forget I mentoined it. And my second seemed to let me do all of the things my first life didn't! Third life was a hateful man, all poisned to the bone. In my fourth I played piano, but just didn't have the eyes to read the notes!"_ He took this moment to make sure his words were captivating the audience, eyes slightly blurred as the green irises glowed softly, lulling anyone daring to look into them into a hollowed state. His voice returned, pain shuddering through him as the silky note flowed from inside. _"In my fifth life I supported girls, of course that wasn't all. My sixth life was corrupted, though I guess it was a little fun. Seventh life I cried so much, and all I did was mourn. In my eighth life, was so rich I could have bought the world and everything! In this life, is a game played by a flaky god. He gambles every life. Try to escape but you know the path you're on is game and set! See how the game of life is playing all of us for fools! Dancing a string around us, making all these silly rules. See how he looks down on us like we're acting out a show! Throw the dice, and let's ee which head will roll."_ Kyle finished gasping for breath, but it had worked, the crowd had been turned into mindless husks, only while the song's magic lingered.

"G-go back to class, none of this...ever h-happened..." Kyle sputtered out, feeling his knees begging to give way. The student body shuffled out slowly, the four remaining in the cafeteria quickly dragging themseleves to a door, escaping out into the cold snow as quickly as they could. Tweek still hadn't quieted down, Token feeling extremely nautious from people shoving things through him, Clyde feeling sore mentally from the panic still coursing through his veins, and Kyle feeling faint after the large mind controlling song. The four of them collapsed in the bushes behind the school, each of them quickly slipping into sleep.

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 **A/N: I hope you're all enjoying this story! Please don't forget to review if you can, that would be extremely appreciated! Have a wonderful day, night, or afternoon wherever you are! ~Verity**


	4. Six Feet Under

**A/N:** **Thank you all for reading this shitty story! I want to thank piper martin 148 and MonsterLover especially for leaving such kind reviews!**

 **Please enjoy!**

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Craig frowned at the brown door blocking his view, arms nestled over his chest, a heavy blanket draped over his shoulders. "Butters, get your ass out here." He growled, a finger fell into the snow again. Craig rolled his stone cold eyes, bending down and reattaching the digit. It snapped into place, grey skin healing over the broken tissue.

"I-I'm not coming out!" Butters cried from behind the door, the frame shuddering as if he was quaking against it. Craig sighed, running a half dead hand through his glossy black hair, hat sitting abandoned at the Tucker residence.

"God damn it…" The raven sighed, swirling his tongue around his mouth, faltering when his muscle tasted fresh air. "Just get out here…" He growled, kicking harshly at the heavy wooden door.

Butters squeaked from behind the door, stuttering to find his words. "N-now listen here mister! I ain't comin' out! S-so…please just go!" The blond whimpered placing a grotesquely large hand over the door knob, shuddering as it felt like a button in his palm.

"Do I have to get fucking McCormick to make you open this damn door?" Craig challenged raising one eyebrow, his voice drained of any and all emotion.

Butters froze where he was in his family's living room, sighing softly, rubbing his knees before carefully peeling the door open. It crashed into the wall, Butters flinching back with a 'oh hamburgers'. Craig looked up at Butters' large form, his usually frail body filling up the majority of the room. The blond's head lowered to look at Craig in desperation, the raven figuring that the head was about as big as an SUV or two.

"So…you're a giant," Craig said, eyes half lidded out of disinterest, "and I'm a zombie. I'm going to ask this once. Do you have any idea where that mother fucker, Donovan is?" He asked, tucking his hands under the blanket and into the pockets of his jeans.

Butters shook his head, yellow hair brushing softly against the celling, a few bits of plaster sprinkling down onto his nose. "S-sorry, Craig. I don't know where the rest of the fellers are,"

Craig rolled his grey eyes, tonguing over his teeth irritably, huffing to himself before making a quick decision. "It's fine Butters…Let's just go to a doctor," the raven suggested with a slight shrug.

"B-b-but, well I don't think there's a single doctor in South Park that knows about this!" Butters stuttered at the first part, gaining confidence as he spoke, his soft baby blue eyes were brimming with emotion, a fierce contrast to Craig's dead end stare.

"There's one," The raven sighed, his shoulders slumping softly, eyes rolling as the memories of that twisted Dr. Mephisto reemerged. The old crone had always been up to something fishy, splicing genes and flesh together to create deformities of nature. Although the man always seemed rather fond of the ass. Craig chuckled once t himself, envisioning the mad scientist with his ass-cane actually shoved up his wrinkly butt. Butters frowned in thought, looking at the door with worry.

"Uh, Craig? If I break anything in the house I'll get grounded for sure! How in the sam hell am I supposed to get out of the living room?" Butters protested, pouting and wiggling his rear end, making the stairs groan, the blonds eyes widened in a 'see?' manner.

Craig simply snorted, fixing his cold grey eyes on Butters. "Well then prepare to get grounded, we're using the door."

Butters gulped at this, watching the grey skinned boy shuffle out of the living room, dark brown blanket trailing after his steps. The blond sighed, wriggling forwards, placing his palms on ether side of the door and pressing forward again. The structure groaned in protest, before caving and allowing a large hole to be carved out of the entryway. Butters slipped through it, finally standing up off his knees and brushing off his pants. If Craig had to put an estimate on how tall Butters now was, he would guess about 6 meters, or around 20 feet. The zombie had to steep his neck back quite a ways to catch Butters face. The blond pressed his two pointer fingers together, tapping them into one another as he looked around the road with his innocent eyes. Craig begrudgingly shoved his hand upwards, feeling two fingers wrap around his bony digits, a bright smile now apparent on Butters' face.

The duo made their way down the streets of town, unfazed by the stares and whispers, many believing that this was simply another one of Eric Cartman's schemes. The brown blanket over Craig's head proved quite useful, hiding missing bits of his face or abdomen overlooked because of the thing draping itself over his forehead. Although when his arm flopped limply to his side, a stone gaze raked upwards, landing on Butters' hand, a smaller grey one laced between thumb and giant ass forefinger. "Butters," Craig hissed, quickening his pace and glaring around at the city goers.

"Yeah, Craig?" Butters asked sweetly, turning his head down and over to the raven, oblivious to the problem.

"I want my hand back." Craig stated firmly, eyes set dead ahead, the large intimidating hill holding Dr. Mephisto's lab coming into view slowly.

Butters gasped lightly, bringing his hand up to his face, staring down at the small fist in his palm. "Oh geez! I'm so sorry, Craig!" The blond apologized, carefully dropping the grey hand down to the raven's open grasp. Craig positioned his wrist, watching blandly as the skin stitched together, fingers flexing to his whim.

"It's fine, Stotch," He replied, making sure that no other conversations would be started as the boys walked towards the sinister iron gates. Craig pressed a button on an intercom machine, he supposed it acted as a doorbell.

"Hello? This is Dr. Mephisto speaking."

"Yeah, hi. We've got a problem,"

"A problem you say? Well spit it out child? What's your problem?"

"I am a zombie. My friend is a giant."

"You teenaged youth and your pranks…"

"Fine. If you don't help, then fuck you," Craig flipped his middle finger up, sticking his arm into the air so the doc could see his displeasure. Butters simply frowned, scuffing his shoe against the cement.

"Well shucks, Craig. I don't think he'll let us in!" The blond wailed softly, the gears turning quickly in Craig's head, looking over at the gigantic foot.

"Butters. Kick down the gate." Craig ordered blankly, taking a few steps back, placing a firm hand on the blonde's lower leg, attempting to shove him forward.

Butters stumbled forward, "Aw gee..." he muttered pulling his right foot back just a ways before slamming it firmly down on the gate, watching sadly as the metal bent under his boot before folding in on itself. "Y'all don't think he'll be too mad, do ya' Craig?" Butters asked worriedly, taking a ginger step over the bent metal bars.

"That asshole will live," Craig replied with a small shrug, flinging himself over the bars, tipping his head to the house on the hill, little patience left in the raven's body. Butters nodded quickly, scuttling after Craig, making sure that he didn't accidentally knock over any trees on the way up the hill.

When the pair reached a heavy set of metal doors, Craig knocked firmly three times before his hand fell off again. He sighed in irritation, bending down and popping the hand back on as the grand Dr. Mephisto opened his doors.

"Oh my god! You weren't kidding?" the doctor asked dumbfounded, grasping the raven haired boy's hand, inspecting the rotting flesh with peaked interest.

Craig rolled his grey orbs, snatching his arm back from the doctor's grasp. "No shit," he muttered, flipping off the doctor nonchalantly.

Butters drew attention to himself by coughing quietly, bending down onto one knee to look into the eyes of Dr. Mephisto. "I'm terribly sorry sir, but do ya' think you might be able to fix us?" the innocent hopeful gaze from sky blue eyes tugged at the doctor's heart, he sighed before throwing his doors open, allowing Craig inside.

"Apologies, child. But you will have to wait out here for a bit," The doctor ordered, turning back to Craig with an almost hungry gaze.

"Touch me and I'll fucking end you." Craig said to the doctor, eyes locking fiercely. Butters made a few small background noises, shuffling around outside, getting comfortable on the freezing snow.

Dr. Mephisto backed up a bit with his hands held up in a peaceful gesture, "Now now, child. Just relax, I'm only going to give you a simple base and see how your body reacts." He explained, straightening the sun hat atop his ever balding head, slipping back into a kitchen of sorts. "You're not thirsty or anything?" the doctor called out from around the corner, the soft clink of glass littering the room.

Butters perked up, a grateful smile pulling at his lips. "Oh yessir! That'd be a mighty good thing of you to do! Don't cha' think Craig?"

Craig took in deep breath, jaw setting firmly into a stone like expression. "Water's fine, thanks." He muttered, leaning against a counter littered with papers and diagrams.

The doctor came out a moment later, holding two glasses filled with cold water in his hand. He passed one to the raven, carefully sliding the other into the blond's hand. He received a bright chirp of thanks from Butters, who downed the glass quickly, a saddened expression falling onto his face as it hadn't soothed his thirst very much at all. Craig inspected the glass skeptically, sniffing the top for any signs of foreign tampering. Smelling nothing he raised the glass to his decaying lips, letting the water trickle down his throat. He sighed when he felt parts of his clothing becoming damp, 'damn holes…' he growled mentally. Taking a deep long sip, feeling his body become slightly refreshed, if not dampened.

"So, children, how did this illness befall you?" The doctor asked curiously, sitting atop a tall wooden stool, mouth hidden behind his hands.

"A spell muttered by an asshole who didn't know jack shit about what he was doing," Craig replied blandly, eyes narrowing in thought of how much he wanted to strangle Clyde.

"Ah, I see. Do you perhaps remember the spell that your friend used?" Dr. Mephisto asked, sitting up just a bit straighter.

"Fuck no," Craig snapped, rolling his eyes at the question, "like I could even memorize that long ass speech anyways."

The doctor frowned in thought, scratching gently at the white cloth covering his head, eyes fixed on the tiled floor as he appeared to mull something over. "I see…In that case, children, there's not much I can do for you without further study."

Craig rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, huffing out angrily, blanket sliding to the floor as his shoulders shifted. "Fine. What the fuck do you need to 'study' or whatever?" he used air quotes at the study bit, his attitude flaring up from the constant run in with dead ends that life seemed to love tossing into his face.

"Well I would need some DNA samples of cours-"

"Does that mean you need our piss, mister? Golly, I didn't think I would be worrying about pissing at your house!" Butters remarked from his post outside the door, shifting onto is butt so he could wrap one arm around a single propped up knee.

Dr. Mephisto sighed, scratching at his top lip before answering. "No, child. I do not require your excreations…"

Butters' smile came back, the blond boy becoming infectious with his joyous attitude. "Well shucks! That sure is a relief! Ain't it, Craig?"

Craig grunted in response, pushing himself away from the messy desk, sauntering over to the doctor accusingly. There was this bad taste in his mouth, like cotton had been doused in grape soda then left outside in the woods for a night. "Listen you fucker," his voice low and demanding, "I don't want to stay this way forever. So do what you must and get me back into the right body." The raven hissed threateningly, baring his teeth to emphasize his point.

The doctor held up his hands in the same peaceful gesture, a simple reassuring smile creeping across his wrinkled face. "I get that child, please calm yourself before something you'll regret happens." Dr. Mephisto replied in a smooth, almost suave way.

Craig balled up his fists, barely resisting the urge to punch the obviously insane doctor straight into the next room. Or the next life, currently the ravenette had no preference over either option. "Fine…take your stupid DNA tests…" he growled, keeping his sharp glare tied exclusively to the old doctor.

Dr. Mephisto smiled lightly, gathering his cane with the ass topper in his hands. He tapped the end of it into the rough floor, "Excellent. Now children if you would just allow me to draw some blood samples, and give you some baking soda then your illness could be solved." The older man informed, Craig gritting his teeth together at the idea of drinking baking soda. "In fact, the backing soda has already been tested. That water you drank for instance." Dr. Mephisto added.

Craig shot to his feet, eyes so wide they could have popped out of his skull. No, seriously, they could. "Okay, that's it…" he grumbled stomping to the door with a scowl etched into his grey skin. "Butters, we're leaving." The zombie stated coldly, grabbing onto the large blond's pinky finger and pulling.

Butters clambered to his feet, scooping up Craig into his cupped hands. "N-now you listen here mister, we are not leaving without giving thanks to this doctor. He just took time out of his studies to talk to us! I'll be damned if we don't give 'em a nice send off!" Butter's scolded, sounding almost motherly in tone.

Craig rolled his eyes, clearly disturbed by the fact he was still being held like a doll in the blond'e hands. He waved to Dr. Mephisto uttering thanks before promptly flipping the old man off with a deep scowl attached for no extra charge.

Soon after that Butters was skipping down the hill, singing merrily to himself. "I got some apples, loo loo loo! You got some too! Let's get together and make some applesauce! Take off our clothes, and loo loo loo!"

Craig rolled his stone cold eyes, a plan unfolding in his brain as he lay slumped against the bow made of Butter's hands.

Oh yes, quite the plan to finally get back to being whole again. While also being able to strangle the life out of a certain brunette. A thin smile pressed against the corners of his lips, a slow nod and a deep breath of satisfaction.

Quite the plan indeed.


	5. A Circle Of Sorts

Kenny awoke with a start, hand clenched around his sweat drenched under shirt. A clatter of pages could be heard echoing off the walls as a certain magazine crumpled on the dirty carpet. A slightly tanned hand ran through sandy locks, a thick sigh worming out of Kenny as feather wings unfurled from his back. Kenny licked thoughtfully at his top lip, twitching the new appendages inwards, getting them pressed against his back as much as possible.

A soft creaking played through the thin ugly green walls, the beat up mattress under Kenny groaning as weight was removed from its sagging center. In a matter of moments, the blond had his contaminated undershirt tossed to the side. He grabbed a pair of rusted scissors, stabbing at the worn white fabric he had plucked from his dresser. Once two holes had been formed at the back of the tank top, he quickly slid it over himself, convulsing in an attempt at getting the wings to slip through the newly cut holes.

Once he had situated a shirt on his shoulders, Kenny pulled on some jeans and his orange parka, quickly tugging the hood up and over his hair. His bare foot kicked the magazine out of his path, grabbing a comb from the floor and running it through his greasy hair a few times. He tossed the battered piece of plastic to the floor again, pushing out of his door, a few holes evident in the thinned out wood. Most of the holes were from his own devising, a spine tingling reminder to the many ways in which he had died.

The smell of burning poptarts blocked his reminiscing abruptly, the blond running down the short hallway to the conjoined kitchen and living room. His feet skidded against the floor, blue eyes gazing around in an owlish panic. A second sigh escaped his lips at the scene unfolding before him.

"GOD DAMN IT! GIMME MY BREAKFAST!" Kenny's father roared, a plastic fork wedged between the edge of the crumbling pastry and the electric heated walls of a toaster. Kenny himself simply grabbed a not so filling oatmeal bar, leaving the larger portions of protein for Karen. He peeled back the crinkly wrapper, biting away about half of the bar.

Kenny never was a particularly large fan of oatmeal and raisins, they always seemed too dry for his tastes. A sharp knocking echoed off the front door, projecting impatience and ferocity. In that moment, Kenny knew exactly who was at the door, he shuffled forward, propping open the door and leaning against the frame. "What's up, fatass?" He greeted rather boredly.

Cartman huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Kenny assumed that there was an eye roll to go along with the huffy attitude, but Cartman's eyes were blocked by sleek black sunglasses that barely fit over his wide head. They were either new, or the brunettes mother's. "Kinny, it's a…pleasure to gaze upon your fucked up face." Cartman snapped, his thoughts obviously drifting off into vengeance-land.

"As it is always a pleasure to be overwhelmed by your sheer size." Kenny shot back, taking up a similar stance. Shoulders squared, spine straight, hands across his chest, and narrowed eyes.

"Wow, great one. I'm quavering!" Cartman exclaimed sarcastically, quickly continuing with a rant. "Obviously, we both know who has done this," he gestured to himself and then to Kenny, pausing for dramatic effect, "Kahl. That sneaky little bitch has been pulling the strings behind this whole thing! He clearly planted the book in Clyde's attic. Only Clyde was smart and used the wrong spell, and now, Kahl is off tormenting Clyde for not following his master plan."

Kenny stood stock still for a moment before breaking out into laughter, he closed the door behind him, shoving the last half of his breakfast bar into Cartman's mouth as the brunette was about to protest.

Cartman spit out the bar, now fuming. "KINNY! WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Kenny simply shrugged, still chuckling to himself. "I guess you just look better when there's something in your mouth." The blond purred, finding great solace in the small blush springing up on Cartman's face.

"Kinny, you're such a fag," The chubby teen grumbled, taking in a deep breath of composition before turning back to the blond with a devious smile. "Now will you help me hunt down that little fucker, Kahl?"

Kenny shrugged again, kicking a few piles of snow over the discarded food, the last thing he wanted was some raccoons scratching at the walls in the night time search for food. "I'll come with you, sure. But I'm not looking for vengeance on Kyle. I'm going to protect your fat ass from a beating when you find him."

Cartman huffed again, slamming his palm against Kenny's cheek. "I don't need your fucking protection, Kinny. But if you won't help me track down the Jewrat, then just go make out with some whore for all I care."

"So your mom?"

"SCREW YOU, KINNY!" Cartman shouted, bearing his two sharp fangs in a hiss.

Kenny held up his hands in playful surrender, a smirk present on his slim face, he still hadn't got the chance to pull his hood strings taut so they swung around his chest loosely.

Cartman composed himself, shooting a hateful glare over at the blond, spitting at the ground in disrespect before turning on his heel and stalking off to plot.

Kenny chuckled to himself, he had always enjoyed pissing off the little tyrant. More memories of past times bubbled to the surface of his mind, the smirk melting down into a happy and content smile. He rubbed over where Cartman had smacked him, it would definitely bruise, but the blond didn't care all that much.

' _I should probably see if Stan's up. Better yet…'_ Kenny began to think, whipping out his phone to create a large group message.

'Alright. We all need to meet up. Mostly to discuss, all in favor?'

A few lonely moments passed, Kenny kicking at the snow under his worn shoes with disinterest before his phone buzzed.

'I am definitely in favor. Just a min tho. She-ogre is on her period ~' Stan replied, a few more messages popping up afterwards.

'As long as I get to strangle Clyde.' From Craig.

'Wwe could alwys just meett up by the poongd again?' Tweek's jittery hands pressed a few buttons out of order, and Kenny could only imagine him muttering low curses while drinking steaming coffee.

'Wait, is every1 in a group at school or something?' Kenny asked, assuming they were all just on their phones at the usual lunch table.

'Butters and I are currently headed to your house, McCormick. We'll pick you up.' Craig, with his ever fluent grammar, responded almost instantly, and as Kenny craned his ears, he did certainly hear a large thudding sound. His head swiveled away from his vibrating phone, assuming that people were working out where to meet up. His blue eyes widened to about the size of saucers, or at least that's what Kenny thought they looked like. Skipping towards him with a bright cheery smile was a gargantuous Butters, a grey skinned Craig jostling around in the other blond's hand. Kenny heard a few curse words fly from the noirette, the duo slowing down by Kenny's house.

"HIYA KENNY!" Butters shouted, sitting down on his knees in front of the wide eyed blond, opening his hand and letting Craig slide down to the ground.

He held up his phone, showing the conversation, "It's been decided, we're going back to Stark's." Craig said flatly, his expression deadpan as always.

Kenny could only blink and nod softly, watching as Butters clapped his hands together, causing a few birds to squak in annoyance at him. The lighter blond waving at the birds as they soared past. Butters had always retained his child like playfulness.

Kenny cleared his throat, "So uh…What happened with you guuUUUYS!" he shrieked at the end, as he was lifted upwards by Butters' hand, Craig being secured in the other hand once more. The raven just rolled his grey eyes, slumping against the over enthusiastic grasp.

"Well, when I came to, everyone was just scattered around!" Butters began taking long, cheerful strides towards the pond. "I thought this might be a bit concerning so I woke up ol' Token. We talked for a good long while, and ya will never believe what happened next! I took a look down at myself, and boy, it was the darndest thing! Why, I had grown to the size of a house!" Kenny tried not to puke at the constant shifting of Butters' hands as he practically skipped through town. "So I went back to my house, and boy…my parents were awful sore about me being so late! I got grounded to the living room, and I had to close up the hole in the wall all on my lonesome! Craig came by earlier, spoutin' nonsense about a doctor curing us!"

"It wasn't nonsense…" Craig grumbled, his eyes closed in deep concentration. Kenny stared back at Craig as he was swung around the air, wind whipping through his sandy hair. A few strands decided that his face was a great place to rest, the blond quickly shoving them behind one of his ears, tuning attention back to Butters' story.

"-en that mean ol' Dr. Mephisto gave us baking soda water! My stomach is still a might sore from it…but I suppose that's to be expected. Anyways, we were just heading down the hill from the lab when Craig got yer' message! And well, we just…skedadled right on over!" Kenny took notice that whenever Butters was talking to him, his voice gained a sort of confidence, the sweet innocence still ever present in that southern accent.

"Uh-huh…" Was all the sandy blond could muster at the moment, Butters' hand clamped tightly around his wings, it didn't particularly _hurt_. But it was definitely uncomfortable.

The frosted over lake soon came into view, thick pine trees dusted with crisp new snow. It appeared that no one else had arrived yet, Butters setting the two smaller boys down onto the snow with a bright smile, plopping down in a relatively large clearing. The giant left about a quarter of the clearing left, but that was space enough. Kenny took this moment to observe Craig.

He looked fairly normal, same blue jacket and brown pants, hat no where to be seen. He had grey colored skin that clung tightly to his bones. In a few places, such as parts of his jaw, abdomen and legs, several small holes were present. Bone and dried out tissue visible, a few bits of torn muscle and tendon hung out with spine tingling casualty. Craig caught the staring, his sharp narrowed gaze landing on Kenny. The blond just waved with a small smile.

After what felt like hours of awkward silence (not really since Butters couldn't stop talking), four shambling figures pushed through the bushes. Craig caught Clyde's line of sight, taking several large strides, bloody murder evident in his stone cold glare. A trembling blond beat the raven to the pounce, Tweek clinging desperately to Craig's shoulders while his small body was wracked with heart wrenching sobs. "GAH! Craig! It was too much! I couldn't handle it! It was just t-too much! The PRESSURE man! Th-they…they wouldn't stop touching!"

Craig reached up a lone hand to stroke over spikey blond hair, still glaring at Clyde as he muttered calming things to the shaking boy in his firm grasp.

Kenny cleared his throat, pulling Clyde away from the raven, glancing over at Token and Kyle who had slumped down on either side of Butters, both looking utterly exhausted. Stan and Cartman came in together a few moments after that, the group silently arranging themselves in a sort of circle.

"So we all KNOW why we're here," Cartman began, his brown eyes traveling over each of the faces before him, ranging from hateful, to tired, to happy. "Obviously, SOMEONE is behind this whole thing as Clyde clearly isn't smart enough to orchestrate this on his own."

The brunette exclaimed a 'HEY!' while sitting upright, brow furrowed, Cartman just waved this off. "It's only the truth, Clyde." Craig snorted in agreement, his hand still intertwined with Tweek's, who seemed to have calmed down a bit. "Now, I think we all KNOW who this could have been." He paused for dramatic effect before whipping off his sunglasses to point a chubby finger accusingly across the circle at a certain redhead. "It was KAHL!"

Kyle's own face contorted in anger, but he was too tired to really do much other than snarl. Stan had his best friend's back though, eyes flashing bright yellow menacingly at the vampire.

Cartman narrowed his now red eyes at them, rolling the orbs with a snort. "Yes, yes Stan. We all know you're gay for that Jewrat," another growl, but Eric seemed unfazed. "But let's face the facts, only someone as sneaky as Kahl could've planted that book. He obviously wanted to turn the world into monsters while he sat back, remaining human as ever." Cartman sneered at the end, Butters tapped his two pointer fingers together in anxiety.

"W-well, I don't think Kyle would do something like that, Eric-"

He was cut off by the furious brunette who had shoved the sunglasses back on. "Yes, he would! He is a sneaky, filthy Jew who only wants to dominate the world!"

Kenny was the one to snort in disbelief, resting back on his hands and just observing the group as more accusations flew around the circle between Cartman and Stan. He finally stood up, brushing off his pants and pulling down his hood. "Well this is getting us nowhere. How about we re-introduce each other to our new selves. And THEN start flinging conspiracy theories around, hmm?" he suggested, the obvious annoyance in his voice as the blond scanned around the group.

Cartman shot to his feet, pointing his finger at himself rather proudly, surprisingly following along with Kenny's plan with little resistance. "Well _I_ am a vampire. Therefore making me the leader because I have the most agility and strength now!"

Craig snorted, "By that logic, Butters would be the leader, a small push from him ripped down a _wall_. But anyways, I'm a zombie I guess…" Cartman sat down afterwards, still fuming by the obvious pout on his pale flabby skin.

Tweek was nudged in the ribs by the raven to the jittery blond's side, crying out before addressing the group with a shaking voice. "W-w-well…I uh –GAH!- I'm a fairy."

Token was next in line, weary eyes looking like they had been glossed over. "Ghost-spirit-thing," he croaked out, head still swimming at a dizzying pace. Kenny looked up at the sky while Butters was explaining, the sun was about halfway through the sky, illuminating the clouds to a bright and sparkling blue.

Kyle looked around the group before pulling his red curls back to show his new spines. "I'm a siren…" he grumbled, casting emerald eyes to the snow.

Cartman burst out into histarics, earning a sharp glare from Kyle and Stan. "I fucking KNEW IT! Of _course_ Kahl would get the brainwashing powers!" the brunette sneered again, receiving a low snarl from a certain blue eyed raven.

"Stan Marsh, werewolf." Stan explained curtly, still glaring daggers at Cartman on Kyle's behalf.

"Well, while those new forms sound absolutely _wonderful_ ," Clyde began, a smug smirk creeping onto his face, hands tucked into his pockets. "I got chosen to be a mage of sorts." He boasted, almost being lunged at again by Craig, this time having Tweek AND Butters holding the furious raven back.

Kenny quickly jumped into action, shedding his parka and spreding out his white feathered wings. "And I, your beloved host, am an angel! You may all worship me now." The blond purred, gesturing outwards in a joking manner, small laughter worming it's way out of everyone in the circle. His artic blue eyes peeked open, a demanding pout becoming extremely exaggerated on his face. "Whaaaat?" he whined, "What's so funny?"

Slowly but surely, the group's anxiety and frustrations melted away into something, at least a _bit_ comfortable. Sure enough though, a sharp observant gaze was watching the whole thing. Smirking almost menacingly as the boys traded ideas and insults to one another. A low rumbling sigh ebbed out of the figure, their eyes closing contently. "Don't worry, my boys. I'll be there for you soon enough…"


End file.
